Peter Pox
by SoItGoes19
Summary: Peter gets chicken pox, and Olivia comes over to help. Bolivia! Warning: story contains large amounts of ice cream and America's Funniest Home Videos.


It was about 3:30 in the afternoon when Walter called her. She had just made the long commute back from the federal building in New York, and with Rachel and Ella were gone sight-seeing for the day, she was looking forward to nothing more than a good long nap.

"Hello Agent Dunham? This is Walter Bishop. I work with you in the lab-

"Hey Walter," she cut him off. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh good, you remember me! Well, it seems Peter has gotten the chicken pox."

"Oh God Walter, I'm so sorry."

"Yes, me too. He's being a terrible patient. He won't stop scratching his spots, he won't let me rub his back, and he refuses to take an oatmeal bath!" Walter lamented.

Olivia smirked. She could just see Peter giving everyone hell even while covered in calamine lotion.

But what do you want me to do? I'm not really that good with sick people." It might have sounded like a lame excuse, but it was grounded in truth. Dealing with sick people had never been a particular strength of hers, and now after John Olivia wasn't sure that she could bear it.

But Walter quashed all of her worries with three little words. "Oh, but isn't it obvious? He adores you!"

_He adores you_. The words reverberated through her mind. _He adores you_. They had a nice ring to them. So ten minutes later Olivia realized that she had already hung up the phone and agreed to come to the house. That sneaky bastard.

Olivia was a little nervous when she rang the bell. I mean, what was it that they expected her to do?

Walter answered the door. "Agent Dunham!" he beamed. "Come in, Come in. Peter I have a surprise visitor for you," he called down the hall.

Olivia heard Peter groan. "It had better be the pizza man," he called back. "Having Astrid here is bad enough!"

"Hey, I brought you bagels!" she heard the junior agent squeal. Olivia was immediately put at ease. Having Astrid here would definitely make the situation less awkward; it could even be kind of fun. She walked down the hall more confidently, using the opportunity to take a better look at the Bishop residence. She had certainly been there before whenever she would bring them new cases, but such formalities had forbidden her from really noticing the details. Details like the blue teapot in the kitchen or the pictures hanging in the hallway gave the old Boston house an almost _homey_ feel, something she would have never expected from the two men.

Olivia made her way into the family room behind Walter. "No Peter, the visitor is not the pizza man. It's Agent Dunham!"

Peter's mouth hung open for a bit. "Walter!" he finally choked out, his voice nearly an octave higher than normal. Olivia watched as father and son engaged in the staring-contest of the century, pitting Peter's "I hate you" glare against Walter's patronizing "I know what's best for you" smirk. Finally Peter turned away and looked at her.

"Hey Livy," he croaked hoarsely.

"Hi Peter," she replied. He looked absolutely pitiful. Angry red dots covered his face and hands. Peter's usually pale skin looked swollen and inflamed, and was slathered in calamine lotion. From his position on the sofa Olivia could see that he was moving slowly and cautiously, like each of his limbs had been coated in molten lead. Her heart went out to him. She knew that Peter didn't like to appear vulnerable to anyone, even the ones closest to him.

Walter clasped his hands together excitedly. "Splendid! Now that everyone's here I'll go whip us up something in the kitchen." Olivia rolled her eyes, but she couldn't honestly say that she was surprised by the antics. Sometimes Walter treated life as if it were a big party to which all of them were his reluctant guests.

A few seconds later Astrid jumped up from her position next to Peter on the couch. "I'd better go make sure he doesn't go blow up anything," she chirped. Olivia slid into the spot Astrid had vacated.

"Even on her day off she's still babysitting," Peter muttered.

"Remind me to give her a raise," she joked back.

Peter smiled, but he simultaneously also managed to appear both angry and embarrassed. Olivia smiled timidly at him.

"So how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like a giant scab. I'm surprised anyone can even look at me right now."

"Oh please. With the stuff that we deal with on a daily basis you expect me to be grossed out by chicken pox? Hey!" she exclaimed as he scratched his arm. "Don't do that! You'll leave scars."

"Olivia I can't. Honestly, it's like my hands have a mind of their own."

"Well I guess I'll just have to keep them here for you," she quipped mischievously as she entwined his hands with her own and placed them on her lap. He smirked back at her. How did he manage to be so cute even with spots all over his face?

Walter burst back into the room carrying a tray with four enormous bowls heaped with different kinds of ice cream. "I got each of our favorite flavors! Afro, here's white chocolate raspberry for you; Peter here's chocolate chip cookie dough; and Agent Dunham, here's strawberry for you. Walter, of course, had the largest bowl of all with three enormous scoops of each.

"Walter, if you keep eating like that you'll give yourself a heart attack," Peter warned.

"Oh Peter, quit being a spoil sport. Now turn on the television; I want to watch Spongebob!" Walter demanded.

Peter flicked on the tv with the remote, and Walter joined Astrid on the ground while Peter searched through the channels. After about a minute Peter announced that they couldn't watch Spongebob because it wasn't on, to which Walter replied, "Well put on something _fun_ then. I don't want to think for the next two hours."

Peter resumed channel surfing while the four of them munched quietly. Astrid abruptly turned to Walter. "Wait a minute…How do you know my favorite ice-cream flavor if you can't even remember my name?"

"Of course I remember your name, Asperger," Walter replied soothingly while he patted the top of her head. Olivia snorted as Astrid struggled to maintain her composure. The junior agent's jaw clenched, and for a second it looked like she was going to hit Walter, but instead settled for flicking a bit of her ice cream at him.

Peter settled on America's Funniest Home Videos. She turned at him excitedly.

"Rachael and I would watch this when we were kids! We used to laugh until we got sick."

"So did I," he admitted. "But it probably won't be as funny anymore. After all, we're mature adults now." Olivia agreed with Peter, but secretly hoped that he was wrong.

He was. Olivia couldn't remember the last time she had laughed that hard. Her favorite was a collection of swing-dancing clips that showed a bunch of (most likely intoxicated) people attempting to jive and falling on their asses. She and Peter laughed until there were tears streaming down their faces. Walter wheezed so much that she was afraid he was going into cardiac arrest. And Astrid swore that she couldn't feel her stomach for the next ten minutes.

Olivia looked down at the unlikely pair of Astrid and Walter dozing on the floor and then nudged Peter next to her.

"Look. The kids are sleeping."

Peter grinned. He was looking pretty tired himself. "Does this mean we're the parents?"

She pretended to mull it over. "Well I would think so. Someone needs to be responsible around here."

. " ' And the child is the father of man…' Wait, am I the father? Because most of the time I feel like Walter's mom."

She laughed. "Well I can see that. But I'm not adverse to you being the father."

Olivia had meant it as a joke, but only after the words flew out of her mouth did she realize the implications. A stillness hung between the two of them, like both were waiting for something from the other, and yet content to continue doing so.

Olivia was the first to break the silence. "Well, you'd better get some rest."

"Yeah," he agreed readily. Like he wanted to forget the stillness too. "But what are you going to do?"

"Oh don't worry about me," she assured him. "I'll probably doze off too. I'm in need of a good nap."

"Ok." He burrowed deeper under the blankets and closed his eyes. "Goodnight Livia," he said sleepily.

"Goodnight Peter," she replied. Olivia rolled onto her side, trying to get comfortable. She felt content, but something was nagging at her. It was as if she were craving some long-forgotten food from her childhood. Like her body wanted something, but her mind couldn't figure out what. Olivia turned over once again and gazed at Peter. He was everything to her. He rock, her friend, her partner. But looking at his sleeping form, it was like she wanted something more….

She pushed the thoughts from her head and focused on her breathing, the way she always did just before she went to sleep.

Olivia awoke to the feeling of warm breath on her neck. The sensation was different, but a pleasant one, much like the strong arms that now enveloped her body. She snuggled in closer to them and moaned softly in pleasure.

Ohmygod. Olivia stifled a gasp. Somehow during her nap she had completely shifting positions and had slept in Peter's arms, using his chest as a pillow. She allowed herself a few moments to savor the feel of his body against hers. It felt so foreign and yet, exactly right at the same time, like two pieces of a puzzle.

She shook herself awake, aware of just cliché she sounded, and untangled herself from the young genius. Olivia thanked the gods that Peter hadn't woken up yet. Just thinking about what could have happened if he had seen the two of them made her blush.

The room was much darker than she remembered it, and the clock next to the sofa told her that it was nearly eight – she had slept for almost two hours! Rachael and Ella had to be worried sick about her. She needed to get home as quickly as possible. She gathered her things from around the room, carefully stepping over Astrid and Walter who were still sound asleep on the floor. She moved silently toward the door, but something stopped made her stay a little longer.

Peter's sleeping form seemed to call out to her across the dimly lit room. He was shivering feverishly even under the mounds of blankets and cried out softly in his dream. Her heart ached for him. And for once, Olivia was tired of hiding her emotions, of keeping up her trained façade. She wanted to do something daring.

She tiptoed over to Peter and caressed his face gently. And then, like some twisted cross dressing Sleeping Beauty, tilted it up toward her own and kissed him softly. He murmured lowly and began to stir, but her daring was spent. Olivia started to panic and bolted out the door.

Peter smiled in the darkness.


End file.
